


Sutton Bishop Is The Horrible Goose That Lives In The Hellmouth

by quantumducky



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Hellmouth Sunbeams (Blaseball Team), Humor, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26803294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumducky/pseuds/quantumducky
Summary: With apologies toDaniel Lavery.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Sutton Bishop Is The Horrible Goose That Lives In The Hellmouth

**Author's Note:**

> This is, without a doubt, the dumbest thing I have ever posted.

I am the horrible shapeshifting bag of sound that is the most worst to you! I will use my beak to mischief you and I will eat a peanut. I wobble my snakes-front-body and I waggle my non-Euclidean-back-body and they meet in the middle to plan a bad idea to upset you. I flap back and forth my business rear for balancing and I snapple-pap my many feet all around the Hellmouth for terrible reasons, and you don’t like it. I am the goose and you are the miserable player with no honk. The Sun invented my body and it was the best idea.

Honk! Honk! I flap open my back in celebration when I make victory over the ball, when I smash it with my bat, when I hit it into the empty stands, when I undo all of your pitching. Here I honk! I hold up all of my wings and I make more layers of me, the goose that hates your team.

These are the blaseballs that you do not have! I am amorphous and racing over the earth and you are all the way stood up, all the way confused, all the way pinstriped shirt and no ideas. I make a fight between yourself and your memory. I wet your feet because I do not respect them, I wet them with the Sub-Ocean, and I am ocean-satisfaction.

Your stadium? I make it terrible! I make a puzzle of your stadium! I hustle up your bases and build my nest in the infield as a punishment to you. Theft puts a parade into my walk, I am so proud to steal from you and your bad team, who are no good to me and are not geese  _ or _ small English villages. I am the most both of them that  _ ever _ was, and I am enough goose for the whole league, because I am a little white heartbeat that moves very fast, more fast than anything else, for surprises.

My business is the worst business and you have it. Here I come! I’ll take any big thing, small thing meant for hiding, widest thing, even your blood, right in my beak and hustle it away from your permission, because I don’t agree with property and never have. Here I come again! You cannot anticipate me because your brain is so big and weighty and only one, but my brain is aerodynamic and small and whole-village and I have all I need in my wicked construct-body, and also I have your glove.

Where are the fans for me to disrespect? I am their least friend. I see their bets and I make contempt of them. I ruin their lives! Winning for them? No! Coins for them?  _ No! _ I make every upset. I am the pest of all their awful bodies but my body is so squishy and good. My body works. My body is the most-legs slime with a hose attached, strong and useful and all the way sweetheart. You need everything but I have it. I put my honk in a coffee(?) cup so there is more honk! I honk at you, I honk directly up to the Shelled One, and I will never leave! You will never be well again, and I will trouble your blaseball team all of the time. I am all a triumph, I am the most successful goose, and you are misery with suffering and hopeless with loss. I have peanuts in my mouth, and now I have three heads and three honks, and you have nothing to say. There are so many delicious peanuts in my mouth and your mouth is so, so empty, because you hate me, the great remote-controlled goose with a mouth. I am tremendous! Here I am coming, with the good news of me, and you hate it. You can think only of the peanuts and how much I have them, and you are never the goose. I will run around with my peanuts as much as I want and you will make despair. Here comes the goose! Here come all the squirrels who want the peanuts! Everybody be awake to Sutton Bishop now and from now on! You were already unwelcome in the Hellmouth before the goose came and ironed over all of your peace, but I’ll bring soda-can-and-boot-trash into your hotel room anyway, just to be sure. You’ll never be the goose, and I already am the goose as most as a goose can be while also being the village of Bishop Sutton, all coiled up and ready to ungoose again.


End file.
